


Walled

by sexywiddlebaby



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Other, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7571710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexywiddlebaby/pseuds/sexywiddlebaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bowser's pinned you against a wall. He looks...hungry for something...</p>
<p>...and that 'something' is you.</p>
<p>[015]<br/>[Other to indicate any gender of reader]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walled

**Author's Note:**

> This is some _absolute **sin**_. Feel free to burn your computer after reading this. (Sorry Kotabe.)  
>  Hopefully this reads well for readers with most genders.
> 
> E for Explicit and for Explode Me Into The Sun. Those of a nervous disposition are advised to look elsewhere for some more lighthearted stories.

You don't recall the moments that led you being pinned against a brick wall by the infamous King Bowser. Regardless, at the current time, you are mostly immobile. Bowser's stocky right arm is lodged firmly into the wall, and despite your immediate attempt to shove it away, it feels solid. You try leaning your entire body weight against it. No budge. And to your right: a convenient 90-degree bend in the wall that cups you into a corner.

Bowser snarls with excitement, maintaining an uneasy glare into your eyes. Is this what 'staring death in the face' really looked like? You scrunch your face up pre-emptively, preparing yourself to be cloberred unceremoniously to the floor and disposed of. Perhaps visiting the castle without your tour guide wasn't the best plan, you think to yourself, seconds away from being mashed into people-pulp.

"Open your eyes," a voice grumbles into your ear.  
You flinch barely microseconds after the airwaves contact your eardrum, squealing with horror. Why was this **irrevocably** hot demon toying with you like this? You clear your mind of the brawling worries and focus back into reality; slowly, but surely, peeling your eyelids apart like a stubborn watermelon.

His continual snarling amplified in your ears as you realised his non-existent effort to squash you. And just like magic, your chest releases the tension it built up, and you draw in breaths of stale air masked by Bowser's musk. Your eyes shoot open wider as you take in the sight before you: the muscular yet tubby beast cis emented to the floor, his legs planted in a fixed power stance; the flickering light of nearby torches highlighting the spines that cover his carapace; his burning hair climbing to the ceiling. Drool is overflowing your mouth as you admire his dangerously attractive physique.

He laughs but remains unmoved.

Okay, so the reason you went without Toadworth, or without any useful company, is because you wanted His Highness all to your own sinful eyes. And now it had backfired. You swear to yourself that if you ever get out of this mess, you'll stay _a little closer_ to your tourist group from now on.

You hear the rumbling of his belly (which is plump and lovingly stretched as you always like), signifying a threat -- the sound of him preparing his fiery breath. He was reminding you: one wrong move, and everything could come crashing down. Your melted body being first, of course.

"Like what you see?" Bowser jeers.  
You gulp. What was the appropriate response right now, you wonder? And then you notice -- after what seems like a century since you opened your eyes the first time, your gaze directs to below his stomach -- his engorging, glistening, terrifyingly large dick. From your fast estimate, it must measure at least twenty inches in length, and his left claw was barely wrapping around half of its diameter. From the tip of his foreskin-draped head was a constant stream of ejaculate, spilling into a growing puddle on the floor. The lack of sound or shift in posture made you think -- holy cow, this isn't his orgasm -- how much semen was in this guy? In your ideal world, you'd love to find out through a variety of 'playful' methods, but as we know, this isn't your ideal world. You are still silently quivering in place under his influence.

His claw slowly drifts up and down along his shaft, letting spurts of cum fly out every few seconds. Your tongue is begging for a taste.  
"Knees," he says simply.

And so you descend willingly down to the cobble floor, obtaining a better view of his impressive manhood. You spot his two basketball-sized testicles hanging either side of his throbbing dick, decorated in the same creased yellowish-gold hard skin. Bowser cocks his head and releases the grip from his dick, letting it fall down beside the tree trunks known as his thighs. He shifts closer into the wall until he is pretty much violating it more than you. The pungent sweet scent of his liquids fill your nostrils, reminding you of soft tropical drinks.

"Start."

Without time to nod, you lunge forward and grasp his dick eagerly at both sides and guide it towards your mouth. As you extend your tongue and contact the bulging red head of his royal length, his juices begin flooding your mouth. You didn't believe you were chugging _his_ pre-cum down from the sheer tension in the room. But here you are, struggling to breathe under pints of his delicious fluids. Finally, Bowser seemed to stall on the flow for a while, letting you finish up your drink. The addicting and fruitful flavour of it makes you instantly hungry for more, so you decide to set to work.

You lick his sensitive meat carefully, using the flat of your stained tongue to moisten every square inch of his head. Bowser lets some comforted grumbles drift from his snout in return. You reposition your arms to wrap completely around the shaft in front, gradually bringing yourself forwards and backwards as some sort of masturbation tool. It seemed to work however as Bowser releases a surprised gasp at your actions. You speed up the thrusting of your arms, all the while savouring the raw and meaty contrast of his meat against the coats of his sticky-sweet cum.

His pants quicken and become out of rhythm. You're not doing so hot yourself as your cheeks burn and flush a bright shade of crimson, complimenting the reddish-purple hue of his dick. You don't care much for how you look though; instead, your efforts are bringing King Koopa to his climax. As your arms tire and your tongue wants to give up the conquest for your prize, Bowser grits his sharp teeth together and moans one last time.

A gutteral moan is all it takes for Bowser's hosepipe to shoot a tonne of his cum against the wall. The force of it flings you back. Bowser is uncomfortably silent as he uses his claw to pump the hundreds of liters of cum all over you and his castle wall. You almost pass out from the ordeal, but eventually, his stream of pleasure relents. The force vanishes as rapidly as it came, and your countermeasure makes you flop head-first into the lake of warm juice on the floor between his legs, leaving a you-shaped patch of untarnished wall behind.

You noisily slurp more of his delectable seed down into your stomach as you hear Bowser come down from his high. He kneels to the floor and rests his right claw onto your shoulder which is still painted in his cum.

"Ready for the next round?"


End file.
